


What Doesn't Kill You

by PaleNoFace



Series: Smeet Army AU [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys Kissing, Crash Landing, Daddy Issues, Developing Relationship, Dib Has Issues (Invader Zim), Hurt Zim (Invader Zim), Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Needles, Older Dib (Invader Zim), POV Dib (Invader Zim), Pre Smeet Army Era, Tall Zim (Invader Zim), Trust Issues, Zim Also Has Issues (Invader Zim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleNoFace/pseuds/PaleNoFace
Summary: The young man sighs and rises from the carpet, stepping carefully around his mug of cold coffee to go get the ladder, when the entire base shakes violently on its foundations as something fast and heavy crashes through the roof."What the-- Computer ! What was that ?!""That... would be the Voot landing," the computer chimes.Ah, fuck, Dib thinks.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Smeet Army AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658659
Comments: 14
Kudos: 151





	What Doesn't Kill You

**Author's Note:**

> Dib is frustrated. Zim is reckless. They kiss.

...So here's the thing.

Dib doesn't usually lose his temper. Not anymore. Years of frequenting the local psychotic alien greatly reduced the amount of fucks he's willing to give any time of the day.

And his dad, with time, has lost the power he had over him. Dib still loves him, but it feels like a distant memory, an echo. A foreign concept. He loves him, but from far away, because he knows whenever they're close it clashes horribly, leaving Dib breathless and tearful.

How stupid of him to believe this time would be any different.

So really, it's more out of embarrassment from his most recent outburst that he's hiding at Zim's base, sulking and trying to fix GIR's leg that seems to have lost its magnetic pull.

Zim isn't even there.

"This is pathetic," he mumbles, tugging at the little robot's leg and earning a delighted squeak in response. "I can't believe I still allow him to get to me. Seriously, it's nothing he never said before, it's not like I'm not used to his fake disappointed tone, right ?"

"Mary is upseeeeet," GIR whines and wiggles aimlessly on Dib's lap. "The Membrane sir is like... a giant garbage can ! Lots and lots of trash in it, and ! Sometimes ! You can even find ! _A raccoon !_ "

"...Right," Dib nods in vague agreement, shoving his screwdriver between his teeth as he holds GIR up on his feet. "Okay, now walk."

GIR promptly starts to vibrate before shooting straight to the ceiling.

"I'm stuck !" he joyously informs Dib.

The young man sighs and rises from the carpet, stepping carefully around his mug of cold coffee to go get the ladder, when the entire base shakes violently on its foundations as something fast and heavy crashes through the roof.

"What the-- Computer ! What was that ?!"

" **That... would be the Voot landing** ," the computer chimes.

_Ah, fuck_ , Dib thinks. He leaves GIR where he is, instead clambering up the large pipe travelling through the living room to the under-roof, because Zim never bothered to put anything allowing non-PAK-equipped creatures to get up there. He coughs and squints in the settling dust as the roof closes above his head. There's a lot of smoke filling the room, as well as very worrying metallic creaks.

"Zim ?" he calls, his voice breaking a little.

The Invader rushes past him, swearing, a box shoved under his arm, and jumps down to the ground floor and then straight into the kitchen, and Dib can't do much but follow. Zim slams open the refrigerator's door and steps in it, barely giving Dib the time to get in there too before the platform drops down, fast, to the maze that is the main base.

Cramped as they are, Dib can barely get a look at his alien, but what he sees doesn't settle well with his stomach : the green skin is still smoking, darkened with soot and dirt, badly burned in some areas, and the uniform is everything but pink at this point.

The elevator stops at the medical room and Zim rushes out once again, dropping his cardboard box -probably containing Irken DNA samples, Dib realizes- in a corner and working his melting gloves off his hands with his teeth. He turns to glare at Dib, still standing dumbfoundedly on the platform, and waves his second arm impatiently.

"Are you going to help me or just stand there like an indecisive, over-sized lawn flamingo ?"

A few years back, Zim wouldn't have asked so much of a pencil from Dib. _Oh, how things have changed_. The thought pulls Dib out of his stupor and he steps closer, while Zim props himself up the operation table.

According to the scans, he's in bad shape, but nothing life-threatening. The gloves and boots seem to have melted onto him, still sizzling and smoldering, and Zim is doing a quick job of chewing through the dark material, ripping large chunks from his hurt limbs. Dib shakes himself and gets a scalpel, working his way through the Invader's boots and grimacing when the skin under appears to be damaged as well.

Zim is panting and grunting, swearing in Irken under his breath as he finally frees his hands. It's not pretty. The skin is darkened, leathery and cracked, and makes him think of overcooked bacon. Absolutely disgusting.

He makes a muffled pained noise when Dib's hands leave his legs to travel to his back and detach his PAK with a click, and then push his uniform up, forcing him to raise his arms above his head. His entire body seems to be very opposed to the idea. Nonetheless, it's barely a minute of struggle before he's sitting in just his leggings, skin thankfully free from the abrasive material.

And with another click, the PAK is back where it belongs.

"Fetch me the accelerator," he hisses through his teeth, and to his mild surprise Dib complies without a comment. "Oh, and an adrenaline shot."

Dib locates the requested items in half a second and snatches a syringe on the way.

"I'll do it," he says, and Zim grunts approvingly, flexing his useless hands with difficulty. "What even happened to you ?" Dib asks, jabbing the needle in the alien's arm.

"Zim fell into a sun."

A silence.

"You didn't."

"I absolutely did."

"Zim, what the fuck."

Dib walks around the table and opens one of the PAK's hatches, fumbling for a minute before screwing the adrenaline vial into one of the ports. Zim feels marginally better, now that his life support is working overtime to repair the damages inflicted to his flesh body. Then Dib comes back up front armed with tweezers, likely to pull out the last bits of melted gloves from his arms, but then only stands there and glares.

"What do you mean, you fell into a sun ?" Dib repeats, tone disbelieving.

"Exactly what it means, Dib-beast : I fell. Into a sun. The Voot is completely fried."

The human lets out a frustrated growl and plants himself in front of Zim's face.

"Let me rephrase. Did you flung yourself into a sun all by yourself or did someone help you with it ?"

Zim winces and turns his face towards the screen now displaying his vitals. Everything seems stable, although the speed at which fluids are running through him is very high. Dib curses, crossing his arms on the table and dropping his head on top of it with an exhausted huff - and an audible _bonk_.

"Okay, see, this is why I should go with you on missions. You can't help pissing people off and getting hurt stupidly."

"First of all, fuck off," Zim spits. "It should have been easy and you know it. Exchange the samples for the bomb, and then everyone on their way."

"We should have known better than try to deal with Vortians," Dib comments bitterly, but the line of his shoulders softens.

Zim shrugs, and immediately regrets it.

"Second of all, we can't both use the Voot. Zim has enough trouble fitting in it as it is."

"That's on you," Dib snorts, hiding a smile in his folded arms. "You're the one who wanted to hack your own PAK."

"And I'm very happy to be tall, thank you very much," the other sneers.

"If the problem is the Voot, then we should build a bigger, better ship."

"How dare you ! The Cruiser Voot is top of line, Invader-approved technology !"

"For Invaders with their growing process disabled, sure. Yours hasn't been for years. And you said it yourself : it's completely fried now."

Zim looks like he's about to protest, but whatever he tries to say dies on his tongue. Instead, he stares at Dib's face, and more specifically at his left eye - or lack of, as it is.

"Oh. I see what this is about," Dib sighs bitterly and pushes himself back on his feet.

"You can't just expect me NOT to be worried after last time !" Zim wails, antennae swatting the air.

"And _you_ can't just expect _me_ to stay gently behind when you do stupid shit, like, oh I dunno, _fling yourself into a sun !_ "

Dib realizes then, as he's shouting, that the amounts of fucks he's willing to give is actually proportional to how much he cares about the person he's talking to. Which, in this case, is a lot.

"I'm not easily breakable," he argues after a second, voice softer now that he got this epiphany. "How many times have I been about die horribly ? Many. So many I can't even count them, which is slightly horrifying, to be perfectly honest. Most of them were from your stupid plans for world's domination. And somehow I'm still here. Shouldn't that count for something ?"

Zim says nothing.

"You could have had my skin countless times," Dib continues. "Could have mounted my head on the wall like a trophy ten years ago. Damn, you could have actually taken control of Earth if you really wanted to ! And yet you indulged me and fought me over and over again. You trusted me to give back every single hit. You trusted me to be dangerous enough that you actually had to fight back, Zim. So how comes you don't believe me anymore when I tell you I won't die until I've defeated you ?"

Zim is chewing his bottom lip, claws scratching the quickly healing skin of his arms, and has his eyes stubbornly drawn on the floor. Dib drops between his battered knees and glares back up at him.

"Come on, alien scum. You know I'm right. You know nothing can stop me but you. Just because I got hurt badly _one time_ and you couldn't fix it immediately doesn't mean I'm not right. And, okay, maybe it was the weirdest heist of all time, we _did_ try to steal an entire Smeetery after all, and fuck, who does that ? My point is, even a shot in the face won't stop me, not now, not ever. I'm quite hard to get rid of."

"And I'm supposed to be the roach here ?" Zim laughs half-heartedly. "You stupid, pigheaded, undying dirt-human-"

Still muttering, he leans downward, and Dib meets him up halfway.

Zim's mouth is soft and smooth, and tastes a little like chemical smoke and burned flesh. His teeth are sharp enough to cut into Dib's lips, but neither of them complain about the coppery tang of blood. A hand comes up to rest on the side of Zim's head, the other ghosting above his ribs, and he grunts for his skin is still sensitive, but voices no complains.

Zim never complains when he gets to kiss Dib.

All in all, it's a little weird from working around his wounds, but it's far from the awkwardness of the first times - they've had training. Lots of training.

The moment is broken by the computer simulating a nervous cough.

" **Not to interrupt you lovebirds, but the SIR unit is playing in a puddle of fuel upstairs.** "

"GIR !" the two groan simultaneously, and that's the end of that.


End file.
